Chapter 10“So what do you think is going to happen to us?” Gemma asks Joe as they prepare for another long night of fear and unspoken sexual tension. Joe ponders the question for a minute then says, “I really don’t know, Gemma. But it’s not looking good. If only I could get some idea, or maybe find out who this Emma Fox woman is….”
“I hate being cooped up like chickens waiting for the slaughter.”
“I know. This sucks, first chance I get, I’m going to try and get us out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Where did they take you earlier today?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You came back reeking of perfume.”
“Yeah….I know.”
“Joni caught it to. She thinks we’re having an affair.”
“I know. It’s killing me. I wish I knew where she is. We’ve got to get her out of here. It seems like that Fox woman really has it in for her.”
“She doesn’t like any of us.”
“I know. I wish I knew why, though.”
“Maybe we’re about to find out…..” Gemma replies as the door opens and Boche and two henchmen walk in.
“Get up, Joe.”
“Fuck you, Boche.”
“Okay….I was going to take you to see your little girlfriend, but if that is your attitude about seeing her….”
“Okay, okay. But someday you and me are going to have a long talk.”
“I relish the thought, sir.”
Joe is led out into the corridor and down a long hallway. They stop outside a door leading to a room just like the one he shares with Gemma. It’s funny how they remind him of rooms at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel back in New Orleans. “What is this all about,” he thinks to himself.
Boche and the guards lead him into the room, and Joe is stunned to notice that Kayla and Marie B are on the bed pleasuring themselves. They never acknowledge the men’s presence. Boche unlocks an enter door and says to Joe, “You have ten minutes. Make the most of it.” Then he switches on the light. Joni is sitting up in bed resting her head on the headboard. She jolts awake when the light hits her eyes.
Chapter 11 “Joe?”
“I’m here, baby.” Joe rushes to the bed and we embrace. I bury my face in his chest and hold him tight as he tells me how much he missed me. I hold him as tight as possible but then I open my eyes and see the picture that was left on my pillow.
“Who is she Joe?”
“Who?” He asks, confused.
“The woman with you. Who is she?”
He stares at me in bewilderment for a moment and I shove the picture into his face. He stares at it and says, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Joe, I’ve seen some other pictures. Of you and Gemma, and ones of you and Marie. The ones with Marie were taken at the Omni Royal Orleans.” I say as tears stream down my cheeks.
“No way Joni. That isn’t possible. They’re forged. They have to be. Didn’t you notice that the room they’re holding me in looks just like a suite at the Omni Royal Orleans. Maybe they drugged us…..”
“None of you looked drugged. Oh Joe…..” I begin weeping harder.
“You’re hiding something from me, Joni. What is it? You can tell me.”
“You bastard!” I hit him in the chest. “You FUCKING BASTARD!”
“Joni, stop. Talk to me. Please?” Joe implores as I bury my face in a pillow.
“I hate myself, Joe.”
“What did you do? You slept with someone else, didn’t you? Who was it?” Joe says, getting to his feet.
The door to the room opens and Boche walks in with two armed guards. For a moment my eyes lock with Boche’s….and Joe knows.
“Joe….NO!!!” Before I can stop him, Joe runs at Boche and knocks him to the floor. As Boche falls, the two guards immediately attack Joe, beating him to the floor with the butts of their shotguns. Boche orders them to stop, but not before Joe is lying next to him.
Boche gets to his feet, rubbing his aching chin, “I guess I deserve that one. The next one will cost you your life.”
“Fuck you. I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”
“Then it’s too bad you won’t be getting out of here. I would very much like another meeting with you. Guards, take him to his room.”
The guards escort Joe from the room, but before he leaves he looks at me and says, “I love you. I always will, Joni,” and then he was gone. I immediately get a deep; sorrow filled sinking feeling that I’ll never see him again. I bury my face in the pillow and weep again. Why has my life come to this? What have I done to deserve any of this? I know my mouth started a fight with Gemma way back in Cardiff that night. She beat me up. I deserved that. But why did that night have to bring on my total destruction? Maybe I’d be better off dead. I know those around me would be better off.
“Joni, you must trust me. I can get you out of this. I don’t want to see you die. Emma Fox plans on killing you herself tomorrow.”
I realize Boche is still in the room , and I can’t believe my ears! This asshole has tricked me, seduced me, chloroformed me, and tossed me across the room by my hair…and he wants me to trust him now?!!! “Are you insane?!!!!”
“Most likely. But I’m your only hope.”
“I don’t like my chances, then.”
“The odds are against you whether you trust me, or not. But we have to try. I can’t just sit back and let her kill you.”
“She wants to kill me? Why?” I ask in bewilderment.
“I really don’t know all the facts. But it is because of something that happened long ago. Something you did to her or her family.”
“What did I do? You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not lying this time. You have to trust me. I’m your only hope.”
“Like I said, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Suit yourself. I’m still going to try and save your miserable life. This is your bedroom. I suggest…no I demand….that you get cleaned up and go to bed. You will need all the rest you can get before tomorrow morning.”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“That is when Emma plans to kill you. The clothes you will wear for that meeting are on the dresser.”
“I’ll wear what I have on, thank you very much!”
“Then I will hold you down, strip you, and dress you myself. Don’t play games, Joni. As I told you, I am your only hope.”
“And as I told you, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Then maybe I should lock Marie in here with you to ensure that Ms Fox’s orders are being followed?”
“No, I’ll take a bath and wear whatever that goofy bitch wants. I want to meet her too.”
"As I said before, Joni, don't play games with Emma Fox. You don't know what you're getting into."
"I'll take my chances."
Boche looks at me for a long moment with a hint of sadness. He sighs and turns as if to leave.
“I have a little surprise for you.”
“Enough surprises, Boche. I can’t take much more.”
“Then don’t look at it as a surprise. You have a roommate for the night. Wait just a minute and I’ll bring her in,” and he leaves the room.
“Oh hell, what now? Marie? Gemma? This is just what I need on the last night of my life, “ I think to myself.
Boche soon returns and to my great surprise, he isn’t with Gemma nor Marie. He is leading a gorgeous brunette by a leash. A leash attached to a leather-studded collar around her neck. My eyes register my shock as the brunette is led in. She can’t be over twenty years old and she looks like a model! Other than the collar she is clad only in a black t-shirt. The shirt can’t hide her curves, nor can it conceal the fact she isn’t wearing anything under it.
“This my dear Joni is my Kitten. She will keep you company tonight. Actually she will ensure that you don’t do anything stupid. Isn’t that right, Kitten?”
The young girl smiles as he says, “Kitten,” and she answers with a giggle.
“Don’t let anything happen to my Kitten, Joni. I hold you responsible for her tonight,” Boche says as he unlatches the leash and then leaves the room. The click of the lock sounds like a gunshot.
I shake my head in disbelief at this turn of events. I look toward my new roommate just as she launches herself at me, slamming us both onto the bed. She wraps her fists in my hair, wrenches my head back and forth, the whole time screaming, “He’s mine, you filthy bitch,” over and over…..
My immediate shock turns to anger and it wells up from deep in the fiery pits of Hell. I unload all my frustration on this girl even though she is at least three inches taller than me and ten pounds heavier.
But my shock soon returns after only a couple punches. The girl scrambles off me, runs to the corner, and she hides behind a chair. “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!” She implores in a tearful voice.
Chapter 12“What the hell is wrong with you? You attack me and then beg me to stop….before I even get started?”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“I’m going to kick your stupid ass, bitch!”
I rush around the chair she’s hiding behind, but she flees across the room and tries to scramble under the bed. I grab her by the ankle and pull her back. Once again, to my surprise, she pushes herself off the floor and wraps her arms around my head. Before I know what is happening, she’s behind me choking me.
“I want to kill you, Bitch! Boche told me all about your little night together in great detail. He’s mine. All mine.”
I start gasping for air but she releases me and flings me to the floor.
“But I can’t kill you. I was ordered not to touch you. Please don’t hurt me.”
I’m simply stunned at this turn of events! She could have broken my neck. She obviously knows how. But here she is begging for mercy again. “Who’s orders?”
“Boche’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want Emma Fox to kill me in your place.”
“That’s mighty humane of him.”
“Fuck you, bitch! Don’t bad mouth him! He’s good to me!”
“He leads you around on a leash.”
“(giggles) I know….”
“Are you insane?”
“Most likely. (giggles)”
“That was a stupid question. Everyone here is insane. Including me.”
I lower my head and prepare for bed, although I’m pretty sure I won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Kittens sleep on the floor.”
“But it’s cold on the floor!”
“Too bad.”
“Fucking bitch. Can I at least have a blanket?”
“Take the comforter.”
“A pillow?”
“Don’t press your luck.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep.”
I lie on the bed and wrap myself in the sheets. I can’t stop thinking about Joe. Maybe he was set up. The feeling is right. I just can’t imagine him cheating on me willfully. I own him….just like Boche owns Kitten. I rise up and throw the spare pillow at her with all my might. It catches her in the face as she is stretching on her little pallet just like a fucking cat. She grunts when the pillow hits her and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
Eventually I drift off into a fitful, dreamless sleep. I awake to bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the drapes. Kitten is curled up on the bed beside me. Her body pressed against mine. Her soft snoring reminds me of a content cat’s purring.
Chapter 13The man called Storm parks a large van across the street from a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He gets out of the van and crosses the street and hides in an alcove where no watchers can see him. He removes a cell phone and dials a number he remembers by heart. “May I speak to Emma Fox, please?”
“Mr. Storm. I must congratulate you on your hard work. All is going according to plan.”
That voice. That exotic, sexy voice. Storm thinks to himself. Too bad it’s attached to this crazy bitch.
“I just wanted to make sure you were happy with the results, Ms. Fox. When can I expect Kayla and Gemma to be freed?”
“You can pick up Kayla at the specified location as soon as I have finished with the blonde. I will keep the tattooed English girl. She is next on my list after the blonde. I will compensate you with the Kayla’s little girlfriend. Jessika has indicated she has no further need for her.”
“But I was expecting the English girl as compensation.”
“You feel you are being treated unfairly?”
Storm knows this is the dangerous part of the operation. If he becomes too pushy, she may just kill them all and flee before his plan has time to work. He has to make sure Boche’s plan is followed to the letter.
“Of course not, Ms. Fox. Marie will be more than adequate as compensation.”
“Very good. I will have someone call you as soon as I’m finished with the blonde. Goodbye, and very, very good work.”
The man known as Storm ends the call and says a short prayer for “the blonde.” Chances are no one can save her. Although Boche has promised to try like hell.
Another quick call…this time to Boche. The message is simply, but decisive, “The time is here.”
Chapter 14Kitten and I lie in our warm bed for a little while until we are jarred awake by a loud pounding on the door.
“I hope you are both decent. I am coming in,” Boche says from the doorway. “Ahhh, my beautiful Kitten! You did well. I’m so proud of you!”
I nearly throw up as she gets to her knees and nuzzles against her ‘master.’ What a gross display! She is actually purring and giggling now.
“Go to your room, Kitten. Do what I told you to do last night. You remember, yes?”
The girl says she does and then scampers from the room like a child. I turn to Boche, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you treat that poor girl that way?”
“Ahhh, my lovely Joni! I never would have guessed you are a humanitarian. But how do you know that it isn’t her choice to be treated that way. Maybe she even likes it.”
“You’re an animal!”
“Perhaps. But I do in fact own Kitten. She is my pet. You are not one to judge me. Isn’t Joe your pet?”
“Fuck you!”
Boche laughs at me and then says, “Please shower and then put on the attire you were shown last night. You will be having breakfast with Ms. Fox in approximately one hour. Be ready when I return.”
With that, he turns sharply and exits the room.
The next hour turns out to be the longest of my life. I can’t help but wonder if everything that has been said will come true. Am I living the last few hours of my life? Will I ever see Joe again? How about that fucking Bitch, Gemma? Will I ever get back to my beautiful New Orleans again? The knock I’d been dreading ends my reverie.
“Are you ready?” Boche asks as he enters the room.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond.
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox, Joni. She’s very dangerous.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Why do you care?”
“I want what she has. You may be my path to getting it.”
“And what might that be?”
“I cannot say. You may tell her under duress. You will surely be under duress soon enough. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going? What does she have planned for me?”
“I believe you’re having breakfast with her.”
Boche leads me from the room and down a long hallway. I become self aware of the outfit I was to ordered to wear. I’m wearing blue thong panties, a long white silk robe and nothing else. Emma has the right idea for breakfast clothing. But I feel naked as we ride the elevator upwards.
The elevator finally stops after completing it’s long journey to the roof. We disembark and walk down a short hallway, through a door to the outside and into a dream world that could only be conjured from the darkest depths of Hell.
The roof of the building has been converted into an idyllic garden scene. There are small trees growing in pots, plants, and what looks like a real grassy area. Concrete gargoyles and ceramic birds guard over the lush greenness. Real birds flock to discreetly placed feeders and baths designed to give naturalness to this unnatural setting. The scene would be beautiful…if it wasn’t for the hazy, smoggy backdrop of the Houston skyline and the noises and smells associated with any large metropolis. It also doesn’t help that several armed men are standing at each corner of the rooftop.
Boche leads me a across a clear portion of the roof that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest. We walk up two steps and onto a raised, covered porch. There is a table filled with breakfast items on the porch. There are only two chairs at the table. A woman occupies one of the chairs. She stands to greet me as we approach. “Joni, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Emma Fox,” Boche says, and then walks back toward the elevator.
Chapter 15Boche steps onto the elevator and as soon as the door closes, he calls Storm. “It’s time to roll. There are ten guards in the building. Four are on the roof. A few will flee at the first sign of trouble. The rest are loyal to Ms. Fox. The other six are scattered on the second and third floor. We don’t have much time.”
As Boche signs off his phone, the man called Storm starts up the large van, puts in gear and drives as fast as he can toward the warehouse’s closed garage door.
Boche gets off the elevator on the third floor…where the remaining captives are being held. He rushes down the hallway unlocking doors as he goes. He begins ordering everyone into the hallway. When he gets to the room where the guards are, he punches the first one through the door in the face and orders the other one to the ground at gunpoint. He sees that this guard is nothing more than a scared boy, so he disarms him and locks him in the room with the injured guard. He takes their radios before he secures the door. Just as he notices the captives streaming into the hallway, a loud crash rocks the building. He knows that this is the man called Storm driving through the garage door.
Boche must now convince the captives that it is in their best interests to follow him. But first, he must deal with the large, very angry Joe….who just yanked the pistol from his hand.
Now with a pistol pointed at his own forehead and Joe’s forearm crushing his windpipe, Boche manages to squeak, “You have to trust me! I can get you out of here!”
“Fuck you! Tell me where Joni’s at, or I’ll turn your head into a canoe!”
“Listen to me, you fool! All of you will die if you don’t!”
“Tell me where she is!”
“We’ve got to get out of here, Joe!”
Just as Boche starts fading from the immense pressure on his throat, a heavy weight hits Joe in the back. His grip is torn away from the man he was choking and he reels against the wall as Kitten reaches around his head and starts clawing at his eyes. The gun falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. He tosses the clawing, screaming woman off his back and Gemma slams into her, knocking her to the floor. As Gemma rushes to punch the brunette, the girl curls up into a fetal ball and says, “Please don’t hurt me.”
A stunned Gemma stares at her for a moment and then Boche says, “Yes, please don’t hurt my Kitten. She was only trying to help me.” Gemma stops in her tracks…not because she is a humanitarian…because Boche is holding the pistol once again.
Joe gets to his feet and stands in front of Gemma. “What do you want from us, Boche? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”
“I want you to listen to me. Don’t interrupt. If you heard that loud noise moments before then you heard Storm drive a truck through the garage door of this building. We must get to that truck before the other guards get there. That is the only way you will get out of here alive.”
“Where’s Joni? I’m not leaving without her.”
“Joe, you must trust me. I will bring her to you.”
“Fuck that! I’ll get her myself.”
“You’ll be dead before you find her. Trust me. I promise you I will bring her to you…if she is still alive.”
“What do you mean, ‘If she’s still alive?’ For your sake, you better pray she is.”
“Please Joe. Protect my Kitten until I return with your Joni. I hold you solely responsible for her as you do me for Joni.”
Joe looks at the armed man for a moment, obviously weighing his options. As a token of trust, Boche hands him the gun. “Get these people to safety Joe. I will save your precious Joni. Trust me.”
With that, Boche runs toward the stairwell and disappears. Kitten tries to rush after him but Joe and Gemma restrain the screaming girl.
Chapter 16“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to sit down and have breakfast with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you may be hungry. Now sit down!”
The tone of authority in her voice can only come from one who is used to giving orders…and having them followed without question. I decide that this may be the only way to find out what is going on. I sit down across from her.
“Eat, child. You look famished.”
“Did you poison my food?”
The woman called Emma Fox crinkles her face in humorous disgust and reaches across the table and takes a bite of my food. “Satisfied? I’m not dead. Joe told me corn flakes with strawberries were your favorite breakfast. I hope you enjoy.”
“You were in that picture with Joe.”
“Yes. We had a marvelous evening. He is quite a lover. I may keep him around for a while.”
“I hate you.”
“Such harshness from one so young. Eat your breakfast, and then we will discuss hatred.”
I am hungry. I don’t want to, but I succumb and eat like I’m famished. I catch Emma watching me and I can’t help but think of a rabbit trapped by a rattlesnake’s stare. As I eat, she begins to talk.
“Of course you know by now that my name isn’t really Emma Fox. I think you’ve known that for sometime (
actually, I haven’t). My name is really Jenn Peccavi. Does that name ring a bell with you?”
I think for a minute, but nothing comes to me, “No. Should it.”
“Well, yes it should. Twelve years ago you destroyed me. Now it’s time to return the favor (
twelve years ago? What is this nutty bitch talking about?).”
“Twelve years ago? I don’t understand….” I say with a mouthful of cornflakes.
Emma, or Jenn, hasn’t taken her eyes off me. She is watching for any indication that I understand. But I really don’t.
“Yes. Twelve years ago I was very young, but very powerful. I was the head of a large empire in Florida, Texas, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and parts of Tennessee and in Louisiana. I had to fight hard to gain what I had in New Orleans. But one day an…ahem…investigative reporter took it upon herself to expose me in the Times-Picayune. She called me a criminal. She made up baseless accusations of a vast network of drugs, prostitution and rackets. She accused me of ‘fixing’ several sporting events in the Southeast. She even exposed my propensity for violence. She somehow learned that I ran an underground combat network and liked to participate. She said I was very cruel to my opponents.” A wicked grin appears on her face, “I guess that much was true. I supposedly crippled her cousin.” She pauses for a moment to let me digest what she’s telling me.
“Well…did you?” I ask, now curious to see where this is going.
“Did I what?”
“Run a criminal empire? Did you cripple someone?”
“No.” She hesitates and drops her eyes for just a moment. “I’m no criminal. But yes to your second question.” She flashes that evil grin again.
I think for a moment, but I still can’t figure out how I play into any of this. Why am I here?
“That’s all very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Oh Joni, please don’t play coy with me. I don’t like games. Unless I’m the one playing them.”
“Really. I don’t understand,” I push my empty cornflake bowl away and look at her.
“You don’t? The Times-Picayune article that ruined me was written by Jonica Desjarlais.”
“That’s my name!”
“I know. You wrote it and then you disappeared. I was told that you went into hiding because of what I might do to you. But I knew it was you when I saw your name on that catfight website. I know your style. I’ve had twelve years to study it. I’ve watched for your byline for so long that I feared I might never find it. Fortunately, my passion for combat led me to that forum. As luck would have it, your story was the first thing I saw. I knew it was you from the very first sentence. Fate is on my side, mon cher.”
What is this crazy bitch talking about? I never wrote for the Times-Picayune. Especially not twelve years ago!
“I…I never wrote for a newspaper.”
She stares at me and the wicked grin never leaves her lips. She has the coldest eyes I have ever seen, and I’m beginning to really get scared. The expression on her face never changes while she picks up her heavy water glass and takes a deep drink.
“You can deny it all you want, nothing can change history…or your future. Now, you wanted to discuss hatred…..”
The smile never leaves her face and her eyes never stop sparkling as she releases the water glass and it slams into my forehead like a hammer.
